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front door

By 6:58 AM , , ,


I walk out of my living room having peeled myself off the couch after falling sleep with the TV on. This is pathetic and typical.
What's atypical is what happened next.

I walk down the hall to see that my front door is wide open.

"Holy fucking shit."

I've been robbed.

And then, oh my god the kittens.

I don't know how long the door's been open, but it's been at least 5 or 6 hours and the kittens were gone. Bootsie and I slept through the whole thing.

To cut to the chase, no I hadn't been robbed, even though I easily could have been. And after what seemed like hundreds of minutes, but probably more like 3, the kittens came back into the house after I used the oldest trick in the book, rattle the kitty food container.

I hardly debated about publicly announcing what a lucky moron I am right here on this blog - why would I subject myself and my friends to this appalling truth. But I had to tell somebody, and I couldn't call anybody up at 4:31. So here it is. I'm a grade-A moron. And I'm also grade-A lucky, because there are a hundred different ways this scenario could have gone awry.

I had a long conversation with Herman last night after I learned that her father had passed the night before last. She wrote the most beautiful obituary I'd ever read and I was moved to tears; knowing that she probably wouldn't pick up, I called her anyway to send her my love. Much to my surprise, she answered because she was hiding out in her car in her mother's driveway cursing her Korean relatives.

Ironically, and perhaps inappropriately, we had the most hilarious phone conversation where we were laughing until our sides hurt. To unwind from the call, I turned on the TV and happened upon a show on TLC, The Man Who Lost His Face that I could not stop watching.

Man Who Lost His Face to Tumor Gets Lifesaving Surgery From Chicago Doctor - ABC News

Even though I was sleepy, I wanted to see what happened to him after Jose traveled from Portugal to Chicago to get this 12-pound tumor removed from his face. Well, I fell asleep anyway, without seeing the conclusion and the rest you know.

Of course I can't fall asleep now because it's almost time to start the day.

All I can say is all's well that ends well, because if I let myself think about what didn't happen (even though I already did) but could have (thank God, Buddha and Allah) I will drive myself to drink and I've stopped drinking. At least for a little while.

They're so trusting and sweet that had it been daytime with birds chirping and people walking they might not have returned so easily to the rattle of kibble. And I think about the raccoons and thieves scoping out the neighborhood. It's actually a miracle that all of us came out unscathed. Not to mention the millions of girl cats that could have been impregnated by my boyz with balls fully in tact. I can't overstate how my mind went reeling with the probable atrocities.

I held the kittens for a long while admiring their small gorgeousness and decided that if I had to attribute an Oscar Best Actor likeness (both personality and attitude) to each of my leading men:

Q would be Franco.

Iggy would be Bardem.

Herman, I dedicate this post to your leading man, the distinguished and honorable, E. Sang Yu.

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  1. One of your best postings so far, Kana! We laughed hard too. Luckily, nothing bad happened (thank G-d!--add this one to your list of deities).

    Sasha and Elena

  2. I am overjoyed if any of my foibles can bring laughter to your day.